


Mouth is Alive

by OverMyFreckledBody



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (nondescript), Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Animal Death, Established Relationship, Fluff, Full Shift Werewolves, M/M, Multi, OT4, Puppy Piles, Werewolves, some blood, suggestive licking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 04:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13139301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/pseuds/OverMyFreckledBody
Summary: After the hunt and right before dinner is perhaps the calmest part of the full moon. Prompto spends it with his favorite boys.





	Mouth is Alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Turq_I](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turq_I/gifts).



> MERRY CHRISTMAS, TURQII!!!!!! :D
> 
> Here's a little extra gift I was already planning on writing for you. It was the first one done, actually. Anyway, I got the idea to dabble a little in the universe you were telling me about and I hoped you would like it. I mean. Full shift werewolves. It's such a good au. 
> 
> Title is from [Hungry Like the Wolf](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IxW0n5Fe5CY), which was kind of a must-listen to when writing this.

                Cleaning their catches might be a little harder in wolf form, but Prompto thinks that’s half the fun. Well, that and attempting to get a stray nibble past Ignis (who’s preparing to cook, his back to them) every once in a while, that is. Except, of course, that nobody can even finagle a single lick past him. Prompto firmly believes that even without heightened senses he would still always catch them with ease. Still, it’s always more fun to test his luck.

 

                “Don’t even think about it.”

 

                Damn. He hadn’t even opened his mouth.

 

                Oh well. Seeing as how the other two seem to be handling the finishing touches fine by themselves, he decides he can leave them to it. With a sigh, he falls back and shifts into his human form. Like this, the blood is a little starker, contrasting deeply with his pale skin and freckles, even in the dark. He’ll need to clean up before it dries on his skin (Gladio and Noct might not care, but he’s not a fan of that flaky feeling that follows afterward), so with a deep breath in, he begins to lick at the droplets that have trailed close to his elbow.

 

                He doesn’t get that far into his bath before Gladio edges himself into Prompto’s space and begins to help. Well, perhaps help is a generous term for what he’s doing – being as he’s cleaning up, technically, but his licks are a touch more than just that. Each one is a slow, languid roll of his tongue, the warm, wet muscle briefly pulling Prompto’s fingers into his mouth and against his teeth before he lets them free. “I know what you’re doing,” he says, shooting him a look out of the corner of his eye, but doesn’t stop him. Gladio, of course, doesn’t put his words to mind in the least and instead, actually grins, wide around his teeth.

 

                _Wolfish._

 

                He finds himself _so_ funny, Prompto’s sure.

 

                Noticing that he’s the only one still finishing up their dinner, Noct pulls back to get on with the apparent new project. Which seems to be to help clean Prompto up, despite the fact that both Gladio and Noct himself are still covered in dirt and blood and leaves, matting down and twisting into their fur. Obviously not caring, Noct presses himself closer, too, to lick at Prompto’s other hand. With another sigh, he lets them.

 

                Once he finds them mostly finished, he stands up and stretches. He turns to see what Ignis is doing, maybe he’ll want a little help, but before he can even step forward or open his mouth, Ignis tells him, “You should at least get dressed.” Damn, how does he even do that? It’s like he knows what each of them are doing at any given moment.

 

                “Why?” He asks, because it’s just a chore to put his clothes on and then pull them off and put them on again every other hour. He’s not a fan of the stuff, anyway, too restrictive and he doesn’t like the inorganic way it falls against his skin. “Not like anybody here’s all that modest –” _especially not around each other,_ he thinks, with flashes of memories of the hours before their hunt when the moon’s pull was strong enough to cause a good amount of energy that needed to be spent. “– and nobody piles with clothes on, anyway.” Gets too hot, otherwise.

 

                “Well,” Ignis starts, and Prompto can’t believe he once thought that Ignis’ pause there meant anything other than a pretty brutal shut down. “Dinner is going to be hot, so when you inevitably spill it on yourself, you’ll want to minimize that damage.”

 

                Wow. Rude. Valid point, but still rude.

 

                “Yeah, yeah,” he groans, ceding his defeat, and turns back around, already dropping his hands to fall onto the heads of the two others, sliding his fingers right into their fur. He manages to find a spot on each of them far enough from their muzzle, untouched by any sort of filth, and coarse until he digs into their inner coats. “C’mon, pups,” he chirps, herding them to their camp supplies, and they follow without protest. Aside from a grunt from Gladio, that is, which could be about anything, from getting up to annoyance from being called a pup.

 

                Ignis sighs, probably at all of them, and though he can’t see it, Prompto flashes a grin at his back. “Love you too, Iggy.”

 

                Beside him, Noct huffs out something close to a laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> happy holidays everyone!!!!


End file.
